Sunshine
by Cygnet Shearwater
Summary: She was his sunshine, it was as simple as that. Numair reflects on his feeling for Daine as always, but this time set to music! Takes place immediatley before Rotg. Little songfic I put together. Please review!


_Authors Note_: Just a very random little thing I put together after singing the song "_You are my Sunshine_" with my friends. (Be jealous, you know you wish you were us.) I thought about the words and just had to make it a ficlet. Mostly for my own imagination, really. Hope you enjoy!

_Disclaimer_: Characters and setting belong to Tamora Pierce, of course, this being Fanfiction and all. The song belongs to who-knows-who, but I surely didn't write it.

**Sunshine**

At first, when I awoke, I could not for the life of me judge why the light in my room was so blessed _bright, _why the birds sang so loudly outside my window, and why my mouth felt as though it had a month's worth of dust in it. Checking the candlestick used to mark time, I saw it was already late in the morning. I had overslept. Again. Cursing to myself, I managed to find a fairly clean pair of breeches, and a fresh, (if slightly wrinkled) shirt. I flicked my wrist over myself, using the neaten-up spell I had picked up from Kitten; cursed clever creature, that dragon. Of course, she may look as adorable and charming as a puppy dog, but she's got all the stubborn, self-righteous audacity of a human teenager. And _magic_, to boot. Magic that not one of us fully understands, or can control. But don't mistake me, I love her dearly, and wouldn't trade her for the world.

I managed to recount all the traits most prominent about dragons as I hurried to class, late to my own lecture on magic theory. Daine always told me I tended to ramble once my mind started thinking about something. Apparently, that wasn't only confined to thoughts that were verbalized.

I was crossing the courtyard when I saw her in the field, working a young piebald gelding. My darling, dearest Daine. My student. My _far_too young, naive, beautiful, charming, hopelessly irresistible--and there. I'm making lists again. Well, it's not as if I haven't held this argument a thousand times before. She sees me, and gives me one of her heart-wrenchingly beautiful smiles, and waves. I wave back, aching to go over and talk to her, even though I know it would most likely win me another lesson on poor Spots, trying to improve my abysmal riding skills.

I passed old Maude sitting with the children in the shade.

"Oh! Maude! Did Kally tell you? Daine taught us a new song to sing yesterday!" My attention was caught at the mere mention of my young love's name, never mind that it was spoken from the lips of an excited nine-year-old. I slowed my pace to listen.

"Aly, child, I've told you before, you're not to be bothering Daine. She's busy enough without bothering over you ducks."

I shook my head, a rueful smile twitching on my lips. I had to continue, as I was already late for my own class. I had gone scarcely ten feet farther before the children's singing met my ears.

_You are my Sunshine, my only sunshine._

_You make me happy, when skies are grey._

_You'll never know, dear, how much I love you._

_Please don't take my sunshine away._

/ / / /

I sat in the large room, having assigned the night's work to the pages and given them time to begin it. In truth, I was preoccupied with thoughts of my own, and a lecture on the properties of Tracing magic was a little beyond the realm of possibility at this point. Of course, it was thoughts of Daine that plagued me. It always was, recently. Ever since Midwinter, and even longer than that, if I am to be completely honest with myself. And to make matters even worse, I simply cannot seem to get that foolish child's song out of my head.

_You are my Sunshine, my only sunshine..._

Well, Daine _is _my sunshine, of course. She is my entire world, the core of my existence; my closest, dearest friend in all the Realms. And thought I would never admit it to her, my brave, steadfast Daine, there are days when I sit through the King's meetings, plotting strategy for the war, and I fail to see the use. Yes, the Barrier is gone, and we are swarmed with Immortals. And I realize, truely I do, that they would have us all killed in an instant if we did not fight back. But with so many of them coming, and no way to stop it, this war seems all but impossible.

And then I see her face, sitting next to me. I see her chin set in mulish determination, her stormy eyes unwavering, and I know, beyond all doubt, that I would fight the impossible for her.

I try to think of other things, that would not remind me how much I desperately need her. I think about how good she is with the children, although I know it irks her when they interrupt her work. I think about how patient she is, the same way she handles Kit. I realize, not for the first time, what a good mother she will make. For a moment, I allow myself the painful thought that inevitably follows.

I wonder if Daine will ever have children of her own. Almost certainly, I think, for she is surely the most beautiful, charming woman at court, who would not want her for a bride? And her children will have her blue-grey eyes, her stubborn chin, her thick lashes, her willfulness, her compassion... They will surely be the most beautiful children Tortall has ever known. And I wonder, (for if I am to torture myself, I may as well do it properly,) who the father will be. I wonder to myself as I sit i silence; who will be the man that finally wins her heart?

And I, will I be able to bear it? Will I be able to withstand the pain of seeing my Magelet marry another, and bear his children, and sneak off early from balls to delight in their own, private company? I shall have to, for she must never, ever know of my true affections. In my heart, I know that if she ever discovered the way I felt about her, she would despise me for the pathetic, twisted soul that I am, to covet my student. The very same way that I despise myself, when I think of how young she is still. No, I will have to content myself with what I am so fortunate to have; her as my student, confidant, and closest friend.

_You'll never know, dear, how much I love you._

_Please don't take my sunshine away._

/ / / /

I am sitting in my study, paging through the _Dragon's Annex_when she knocks on my door. I know it is her, as I always do, by the flutter that stirs in my heart. "Come in, Magelet, the door's unlocked." I call out to her when I have composed myself.

Of course, when I see her, I may as well have not even bothered. She is beautiful, as always. Her hair is mussed, a few pieces of straw in it, and she has a smear of dirt across one cheek. Her eyes are happy, and she carries with her the faint scent of horses.

"How'd you know it was me?" She grinned at me, making my heart do funny things. I have yet to find a logical explanation in any of my ancient books and scrolls as to why a smile from my lady love will make my knees go weak.

"I always know it's you, Magelet, haven't you noticed? You must give off an aura that alerts only me of your presence." I try for a light, teasing tone of voice, but immediately wish I had said something else. That was far too close to the truth for comfort, and for a moment I am caught in breathless fear that she might see through my thin guise of lighthearted friendship.

She grins again, melting both my fears and my heart, before her smile fades away. "Numair, Alanna asked me to come tell you, the King wants to see us. They've got word of more Immortal attacks in some small fiefs near the River Olorun. From what they've heard...I'm not guessing there's much left of them."

I sigh, and close the heavy tomb. I rub my brow with one hand, before rising to my feet. "Well then, my Wildmage, I suppose we had best go see what can be done."

/ / / /

The meeting takes the whole of two and a half candle marks, and we are all tired. The meeting has long ago ceased to be worthwhile. Jon has grown impatient and irksome, and Alanna stormed out of the room after her third quarrel with him a short time ago. Daine is fading quickly beside me, having risen early this morning to assist a mare with her foaling.

So far we have heard of six Spidren raids, four Wyvern attacks, and more Stormwing sightings than I would ever care to contemplate. I look to Daine to remind myself to take heart, only to find her head nodding forward, before she jerks herself awake. A few moments later her head lands on my shoulder.

I clear my throat to speak. "Jon, are we nearly finished? Because it's too late to do anything now and _you _at least can send out patrols in the morning. Meanwhile, Alanna stays here feeling useless as she awaits an organized attack closer to home, I am forced to keep myself in reserve as I hear of more and more casualties, awaiting the magical catastrophe that we all know is coming, and Daine is deprived of sleep. Although, " I add sadly, glancing at her curly head resting lightly on my shoulder, "I am almost glad she is napping now, for she'd be just as restless as everyone else were she awake, and even more formidable. She'll at least be happy in her sleep."

Too late, I realize that I have been unable to keep the adoration and deep concern from my voice as I spoke of my Magelet. Thankfully, everyone else seems too exhausted or preoccupied to notice, particularly Jon.

"I _know_, Numair. We are _all _feeling pent up and useless. You think that I don't want to go hack a few spidrens to pieces, and blast fire at a wyvern just for the sake of _doing _something? We all feel restless, and frustrated. But this is what happens, Numair, and you out of anyone should know that. This is war, and I can _not_ send out my strongest weapons to fight in minor skirmishes, _however_ gratifying, because I need you all here for the real battles when they begin!"

He sighs in frustration, and runs a hand through his black hair. I realize for the first time, that is has a few streaks of silver in it. I notice, too, new wrinkles around his eyes, and that he looks worn, and tired. He covers his face with his hands for a moment, and I pity him, for being King. He looks up at me. "I'm sorry, Numair. I know you do know all that, and are just frustrated, as I am. Yes, by all means, we are finished here. You may want to escort Daine to her rooms, too make sure she gets there. I'm not certain she'll stay awake long enough to find her quarters on her own."

It is a sorry joke, and we both know it, but I appreciate the attempt at humor nonetheless. I smile, and gently wake Daine, still asleep on my shoulder, though it pains me to do so. How I wish with all my heart that I could leave her there, or just lift her, still sleeping, in my arms and carry her to her rooms. Or to my own chambers, to my own bed, where I could fall asleep beside her, knowing that she was safely wrapped in my arms, her curly head on my chest... But of course, that would be improper, to say the least. And of course, I would have to explain to Daine when she awoke. So I settle for nudging her awake, and explaining that I am to walk her to her rooms.

On the way out, I clasp Jon's shoulder; a mixture of apology, sympathy, support, gratitude, and friendship. He understands, I know.

I walk with Daine through the many halls to her rooms, and make my way to my own quarters in silence. I spend the time contemplating what might have happened were I to have taken Daine to my chambers instead. My thoughts do not end as I drift off to sleep, only melting into dreams far superior to my waking world.

/ / / /

The room is dark, all the candles blown out, but the light of the full moon sends an illuminating glow over every inch of her body. She wears a white cotton nightshirt that falls to just above her knees, and is thin enough not to hide much. In my dream state, I forget the need to be embarrassed. She moves closer to me, and the glow of the moon reflected in her grey-blue eyes is irresistible. I reach over to brush her cheek, and her lips are on mine. She tastes impossibly sweet, and I kiss her back fervently. My arm is around her waist, the other hand tangled in her thick hair, holding her closer than I ever hoped to dare.

Her own arms are around me, pressing into me, nails dragging gently across my skin. I supress a groan as her hand runs through my hair, scraping my scalp. She knows she is driving me mad. At least, in my dreams, I can return the favor.

My hands race lightly up and down her sides, across her back, tracing patterns in her skin. I kiss her mouth hungrily before moving my attention elsewhere. My mouth assails her neck, nipping gently at her tender flesh, and I trace my tongue down her throat to her collar bone. Her head is thrown back as she moans softly.

Somehow, her nightdress is gone, as is my own sleepwear. My mouth and hands continue their path down her body, eagerly exploring this wondrous new territory. I press my mouth against her lower abdomen, and am gratified to hear her gasp in pleasure.

I turn again to her mouth, kissing her sweetly as she clings to me, and I know beyond any doubt that this is where we belong. I flip her onto her back, and she kisses my throat softly, those glorious blue eyes gazing at me, dark and cloudy with the desire that I feel every time I see her. It is a gaze that I am certain will haunt me for the rest of my lonely days.

/ / / /

"_Daine,_" I whisper to the darkness, and my voice is thick with love and passion. When I become aware of my surroundings, I realize that I am alone. My bed is horribly, painfully empty. My skin is flushed, my breathing is ragged, and I am twisted in the bedsheets. I ache with the delicious sweetness of the dream, and loathe myself for savoring it.

I _know_ that I belong in her arms. Yet I know just as strongly, that she does not, can never, belong in mine. She is surely meant for happiness elsewhere, in the arms - and bed - of a younger man, who would bring pride upon her, not the shame of marrying your notoriously wayward teacher. I find myself weeping with the sheer torment of it all, and it is these thoughts that finally send me to sleep again.

_The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping,_

_I dreamt I held you in my arms._

_When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken._

_So I hung my head, and I cried._

/ / / /

I am startled awake by soft tapping at my window, and find a small starling perched on the sill. I grin despite myself, and open the window to let her in. That is, until I realize I am in only my breeches. I blush slightly and excuse myself to the bird who had just hopped into my room before making my way to the bath chamber to neaten up.

I dress myself in fresh clothing, and wet my hair with a brush before tying it back in its horsetail. I admit, I am simultaneously paying more attention to my appearance than usual, and hurrying to do it faster, knowing that Daine is in my rooms waiting for me. Finally satisfied that I at least look presentable, I hurry out to meet her.

I barely make it to the doorway before I stop dead in my tracks. She has shifted out of starling form, and is now in her two-legger shape. Most strikingly, though, she is wrapped in nothing but my cloak, which she has made a habit of borrowing on many similar occasions. However, it never ceases to affect me. Already my mouth has gone dry as cotton balls, and I fight to keep the expression on my face neutral.

"Good morning, Magelet." I try to keep my tone of voice jovial, though the bare skin the cloak does not cover, coupled with her dancing blue eyes, reminds me painfully of light night's dreaming. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your morning company?"

She laughs indulgently, but I am struck again by the underlying weariness in her every feature, and it breaks my heart to see. I know she is as much a part of this war as we all are, but I do wish that my Magelet could live happily, without the stress and sadness of war.

"Dolt. Ever the player, aren't you?" She gives me smile, which I am glad to see. "Jon was going to send a messenger to come wake you, but I said you'd either ignore him or shoot fire at him, this early in the morning, and I could do it faster anyway." I snort, for she is right, after all. I would jump out of bed at two in the morning for her, especially if she is going to stand in my bedchambers, barely clothed.

"He said a messenger came early this morning; earlier than this, I mean" She shoots me a teasing glance, which I respond to by kicking lightly at her. "He came from a small farm village, telling of monsters no one has heard of." Any trace of a smile is gone from her face. "He says they eat the skin off anything living, and leave nothing in their path." She frowns, and I resist the urge to hug her close. "Numair, Jon's going to send us out, you and me. Now. They're readying the horses in the stables, Onua's got our things together. You'd best do whatever needs doing quick, because this war is starting."

For the first time this morning, I realize that for all her grave demeanor, something in her has changed. Before she had been restless and frustrated, in a rage over not being able to help those who needed it. Now, however, she was calm, focused. Her resolve was as steely as ever, and though she was by no means gleeful, something about her seemed lighter. I realize that having a job to do gave her purpose, and now she could do it, rather than sit around waiting. I smile ruefully to think of how much she has grown into an adult, from the nervous child she was when I met her.

I nod my understanding, and busy myself packing what I will need and setting things to order. Behind me, I hear the swish of my cloak dropping to the floor, and the rustle of feathers as she exits through my window.

/ / / /

We ride together in silence, the chill morning already shifting into the warm, heavy air of summer. I sigh, adjusting my weight again in the saddle. Daine has tried to teach me to ride properly, but it never seems to stick. However, I do pity patient Spots. We move at a quick trot, slowing occasionally to rest the horses, before picking up again.

I gaze at her from the corner of my eye. She rides as though she was born in the saddle, though her concentration is obviously elsewhere. Her brows are drawn together, and I see the copper threads of her magic reaching out to all the People in the area, asking for news of the Skinners. She has been doing this since we left, but hasn't been able to glean anything that Jon hasn't told us.

Regardless, I can not help but take the opportunity to watch her, and marvel again at how focused and mature she is for a girl her age. I know she has been through more than anyone should be forced to endure, yet she has conquered her past resiliently. And still she finds the capacity to love and to care for with all her heart, and is by far the most vibrant, passionate young woman I have ever, and most likely will ever, meet. Truly, is it any wonder that I love her?

Her face is drawn and grim, and she nods and quickly thanks the sparrow perched on her saddlehorn. She turns to me, and her voice is steely and determined, but I know it masks sorrow and fear.

"We're getting closer. Some People, birds mostly, came out this way and were able to escape. The say it's all dead. They say, they take the flesh of a thing, wear it for their own shortly, then eat it." She looks at me and takes a deep breath. "I'd say they were mistaken, but it's the same thing the messenger boy told us. Whatever the truth of this is, their fear was _real_, Numair."

I sigh, and fight the urge to bring Spots closer to her, so I might brush her cheek, or offer her comfort. "Magelet, your animal friends are not cowards. Again and again we have seen them fight for their homes, and they would not abandon it without due cause. We know that what we are facing is terrible; that's why Jon sent us." I cast a worried look to her, and try to lighten her mood. "Come now, Daine. Surely when these monsters hear they are facing the fearsome Wildmage and her teacher, they will run for their lives back to wherever they came. They would not care to risk their lives against _your_ crossbow."

My words are light and teasing, but inside I quake with fear. Not fear of these monsters, but the realization that I am again in the midst of a war, and Daine is now in the thick of it as well. She will no longer be locked up at the palace for her own safety. In fact, she is riding by my side to do battle with horrid creatures no one has heard of. My dear, sweet Magelet will not back down from a challenge, and will certainly not abandon her adoptive country in times of war. I know that, and it terrifies me. How easily I could lose her in these uncertain times to follow. How easily she could be taken from me, killed, or kidnapped, or injured somehow beyond repair. I would love her still, I know, but what if something were to happen to her mind, and she was no longer _Daine_?

I know she is strong, and proud, and skilled beyond anything I would have imagined three years ago. But she is stubborn, brave, and foolishly loyal. If something were to happen to anyone she cared for, I know without a trace of doubt that she would give her life for them. I am struck with the coldest fear, for if anything were to happen to my Magelet, I am not at all certain that life would be worth living.

"I'm going to scout ahead." She says, and changes swiftly into a golden eagle. As she lifts off unto the sky, her wings outstretched, and she floats gracefully upwards on a draft of wind invisible to me, I am nearly overcome with love. In that moment when all other rational thought is far out of mind, I make myself a foolhardy promise. I vow to myself that if we both survive the war intact, I will strongly consider telling her of my feelings. For I know that I would no longer be able to live without her.

_You are my Sunshine, my only sunshine._

_You make me happy, when skies are grey._

_You'll never know, dear, how much I love you._

_Please don't take my sunshine away._

* * *

Please review! Flames are fine if you feel that way, I just want to know what everyone thinks! I rather liked, it, anyway. So review, so I can write better next time!


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